


the waves of the ocean in your eyes

by ZodiacRiver



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-12-30 05:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZodiacRiver/pseuds/ZodiacRiver
Summary: Sing is a plain, a dime a dozen fisherman. Living by the sea all by himself, he finds life terribly dull.Yue-Lung has been watching Sing. Sing becomes the only color that illuminates his life, a hue so vibrant that it plants the seeds of crush and devotion in his heart.When Sing comes across Yue-Lung from the depths of the ocean, brought to him drifted ashore, they taste the sugary, dreamy tang of what humans and sea creatures alike call love.





	1. Green Scales

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chattoyant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chattoyant/gifts).



> mmMMmmMMMmmMMMMMM mermaid AU!!! is what I was born for!!! This is a gift dedicated to [Zoe](https://twitter.com/chattoyant_zee), for being a great friend <3 
> 
> BEFORE YOU READ, please be aware that this is NOT slow burn! So, if you don't like timeskips and kind of rushed relationships, you know what to do :D
> 
> I will try to update as fast as I can!!!

The first time Sing tagged along with his father to the sea, he thought he saw a glint of emerald. Sing remembers that it was a sunny day; the waters were clear, and cool under his little feet. He was just back from a boat trip with his father. He was looking at the horizon, neck craned upwards and toes on their tips, his eyes stubbornly trying to see what lied beyond there. He looked from left to right, right to left, and then he caught a glimpse of green.

 

It was a strange color to be at the sea. It could have been seaweed, but the color was too light and shiny—besides, why would seaweed suddenly appear in the middle of the sea? Sing squinted his eyes to make sure that he was seeing right, but the green thing disappeared as mysteriously as it appeared.

 

Sing simply shrugged it off, until ten years later, he sees the same leafy color.

 

* * *

 

 

Ever since his father passed away, Sing has always lived alone in his childhood home at the beach. Being a fisherman was in the family’s blood, so Sing doesn’t really have any choice but to fish. Every night, he would spread his net and in the morning, he would sell what he gets to the market in a town a mile away. It’s a boring job and a lonely life, but he’s quite content with it. He doesn’t make much, but he has money to feed himself and maybe to move out to the town someday to go to school and get a better job.

 

Every day is repetitive. Sing doesn’t expect everything to be disrupted so suddenly one morning, the time when the sun shines so brightly above the sea, brilliantly glittering the green in the midst of blue.

 

Sing inhales the fresh, crisp air. The raw scent of the sea seems to tickle his nose, and the warm sunshine welcomes his arrival at the beach cordially. It’s Sunday, so he’s taking a break as per usual, and takes his morning walk along the sand just like what he’s been doing these past years. He begins his walk, sauntering lightly, sometimes humming a random tune. There isn’t anyone else around. Only him and the sea.

 

After a few minutes and he decides it’s time to go back, a familiar view unfolds in front of his eyes. It’s only a color; under the sunrays, it looks gleaming, like a green gemstone. It’s the same exact shade that he saw back then when he was seven. This time, it doesn’t vanish. It stays where it is, and, Sing gasps, it comes with a body.

 

Sing runs towards it. He’s expects a dead body washed ashore, but what he finds isn’t even human.

 

It’s a mermaid.

 

A mermaid, with long, lush dark hair. His tail is the green that Sing’s been seeing, the green that Sing saw as a child. The scales are fair, the tip of the tail almost luminescent. Sing crouches down to get a better look. The mermaid’s skin is pearly and still wet, but otherwise free of blemish, and when Sing removes the hair away from his face, he swallows.

 

Sing knows that mermaids are pretty creatures, but the mermaid he’s just come across is _stunning_. His nose is perfectly defined, and his lips a heart-stopping line of pink. When those eyes twitch, Sing pulls back. And then they open.

 

His eyes are as dark as his hair. Equally as beautiful too. Somehow, Sing is not scared. He’s nonchalant and calm, and so is the mermaid, even when Sing reaches his hand out again to touch him.

 

“Who are you?” Sing asks. He gets no answer. “Are you injured?”

 

The mermaid shakes his head weakly.

 

“Do you have a name?”

 

He nods.

 

Realizing that he’s not in the condition to speak, Sing stays silent. Then he asks again, a question that can be answered with a nod or shake of the head, “do you want me to take you to my home?”

 

He hesitates, but nods after a while.

 

The problem is how to take a mermaid home. Sing ends up carrying him on his back—a heavy burden, and Sing starts to think twice about the entire situation. What will cost him? A curse? But on the other hand, what will earn him? Immortality? Balancing the possibilities will do nothing but make him nervous, so Sing dismisses it as a good deed of the day instead.

 

Sing lays him down on the tub. The mermaid’s eyes are still closed. “Water,” is the first thing he says to Sing.

 

His voice is melodic; even if he literally speaks only a single word. Sing says, “uh, sea water? Or is plain water fine? Or you mean drinking water?”

 

“Any.”

 

The closest water present is from the shower. So Sing turns it on, and the mermaid cups the water into his mouth, gulping slowly. Some time passes. Sing sits at the edge of the tub while the mermaid leans his head against the wall. Sing lifts his head up and looks from the floor to him, and bites his tongue.

 

The mermaid is also looking at him. He looks even more beautiful up-close; his face is angel-like, with a tint of pure childishness, innocent yet at the same time alluring. Sing feels awkward staring at each other like that. He speaks. “What’s your name?”

 

“Yue-Lung.”

 

“Right,” Sing nods. He stays quiet for a moment. “How did you end up at the beach?”

 

Yue-Lung doesn’t answer. Instead, he puts his hand on Sing’s, holding gently and saying, “thank you…for saving me.”

 

“Oh,” Sing smiles, then looks away, embarrassed. It’s kind of hard to think when you’re being thanked by an almost abnormally captivating mermaid. “Of course.”

 

“I can’t go back to the ocean,” he says. “I was exiled.”

 

“Exiled? By whom?”

 

“My family.”

 

Yue-Lung seems to be a very succinct person in speech, so Sing tries to stir the conversation by asking more questions. “Why?”

 

The answer, though, is one that misses his heart a single, precious beat. “Because I have been watching you.”


	2. Starry Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yue-Lung's eyes are like stars; glittery and glimmering with an unfathomable light. And Sing falls for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2!!!! Thanks for waiting ^w^

There is something in Yue-Lung’s eyes when he says those words. Something small, glimmering and shy, coupled with the speck of blushes on his fair cheeks. Sing can only keep silent, trying very hard to process what Yue-Lung had just said in his head. The grip on his hand loosens, and the warmth of skin on skin immediately vanishes.

 

“Watching me?” Sing repeats the last part of Yue-Lung’s statement, as if what he said isn’t clear enough. “How—what do you mean? You can’t possibly be watching me, right? You’re at the sea.”

 

“So are you,” Yue-Lung replies in a quiet voice. “You’re a fisherman.”

 

Sing is hit by the truth of those words. Even if he always scavenges the sea alone, he only never notices any other presence because it’s dark at night. Besides, he’s always sleepy and busy with the nets. It makes sense that Yue-Lung can see him from afar, probably from underwater too, without Sing noticing.

 

“Father is sickly and my brothers hate me,” Yue-Lung continues speaking. “When they found out that I’ve been watching over a human, I was shooed away from home. I swam miles to the shore, and ended up how you found me.”

 

“Is life at the sea that hard?” Sing asks. “So much that you’d give it up for a human, a man like me?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then, why?”

 

“Because I really like you.”

 

Sing, of course, doesn’t answer. It’s way too uncalled for. The stars in Yue-Lung’s eyes are still there; it seems that the more verbose he gets in this confession, the more they sparkle. And the redder his face becomes. Slowly, he raises his hand, and touches Sing’s again, this time in a gentler touch, a tenderer graze.

 

“Well, uh,” Sing stammers, pulling away his hand without realizing. “You can stay here for as long you want. But you will need to go back to the sea someday.”

 

“I understand that.”

 

“I’m going to cook something—is seaweed soup all right?”

 

Yue-Lung blushes slightly. “It’s my favorite.”

 

Sing cooks, all the while thinking of what to do next. He lives alone, but if anyone is to know that he’s been keeping a mermaid, it will be dangerous for both of them, especially with the fact that rumors regarding mermaids aren’t rare. Like the gossip about a mermaid-scale potion that can earn you health and power. But that’s not what worries him the most; not exactly. It’ll be bad if people chase him down to get ahold of Yue-Lung, but Sing thinks he can handle that.

 

  
The problem is that, this mermaid, Yue-Lung, literally has a crush on him.

 

That’s new. He doesn’t mind—actually, he’s kind of honored, because such a pretty creature likes him. But it’s kind of a bizarre feeling. They are from different worlds, the land and the sea, and Sing knows that even if he does reciprocate, things simply won’t work out. Not on its own.

 

But his eyes are lovely, and the colors of his cheeks are vibrant…

 

Sing bites his lip, in an attempt to snap himself back to reality. He brings the bowl of scalding soup to the bathroom, where Yue-Lung is. Yue-Lung still sits on the tub, waiting patiently—not that there’s anywhere for him to go or anything to do. Seeing Sing enter with the meal, he smiles, sighing in content. “Thank you.”

 

Sing gives him the bowl. “Eat it slowly. It’s still very hot.”

 

“Mm.”

 

Sing walks away, wanting to leave Yue-Lung by himself with his food, but he stops on his track when Yue-Lung speaks, almost in a demanding voice, “please stay.”

 

It’s a plea, not a demand. Sing can easily refuse and leave if he wants, but when he turns his head out of reflex to face Yue-Lung, his eyes, as before, glisten with that unfathomable charm. Trying to ignore that, Sing stays, fooling himself by thinking that leaving your guest alone is impolite.

 

“It’s delicious,” Yue-Lung comments after blowing on the soup for a while and chewing a mouthful. “It’s really delicious.”

 

“I’m glad. I always think that it’s a little too bland, but I’m glad it fits your taste.”

 

“It does. Thank you—“ Yue-Lung pauses. “Who are you called?”

 

He’s looking away from Sing, flushed and obviously embarrassed. Sing chuckles, also feeling stupid for not introducing himself earlier. “Sing. My name is Sing.”

 

“Thank you, Sing.”

 

“Do tell me if you want a second bowl.”

 

Yue-Lung eats quietly, not engaging in conversation with Sing until he’s finished. He drinks from the shower. Now that he’s finished eating, Sing doesn’t really have any business being there anymore, so he excuses himself. Yue-Lung, though, halts him one more time. “Don’t go yet.”

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“I—,” this time, the glitters in Yue-Lung’s eyes turn into glass. “Can you please tell me what to do?”

 

Sing sighs. “Just stay here. I’ll give you food every day. I’ll take care of you as best as I can. You’re far from home, but safe. Nobody can hurt you here.”

 

“You’re so nice, Sing. I knew that, since I was little, that you really are the one.”

  
  
Even Sing blushes. Yue-Lung tries to make up for his abrupt words by saying, “don’t mind me. I’m just too deep in the throes of love. You can—go, if you want. Don’t mind me.”

 

But it’s hard to not mind him.

 

Sing spends the rest of the day walking around at the beach again, reading books that he never finishes, and it’s only then that he realizes just how lonely it is to live like this. Yue-Lung’s presence pretenses that feeling, instead of alleviating it; because, even if now that he has a companion, it still feels so terribly lonely. So terribly empty.

 

 _Maybe_ , Sing thinks. _I just want to be with him. To stay by his side, and have him stay by my side. Even if he’s just some stranger that confesses to me at first meeting._

 

It surely is hard not minding him.


	3. Seashell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amidst convoluted emotions and unresolved feelings, Sing brings a conch shell to his ear and listens closely to the sound of the ocean, the sound of Yue-Lung's heartbeats. 
> 
> _"You are the person that keeps my heart hostage, after all."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda write too fast lmao

Sing and Yue-Lung are at the beach. It’s a windy afternoon; the sun has long been gone from the light blue, slightly hazy sky. There is no other sound apart from the breeze, and the splash of water as Yue-Lung flaps his tail. Sing smiles at that, “why do you always do that?”

 

“I’m itching to swim,” Yue-Lung admits. Even if the sun doesn’t shine, his green scales still glint—the same way his eyes do when they catch Sing’s staring at him. Yue-Lung smiles back, pretending to look at the space behind Sing’s back to avoid eye contact. “It’s been a while.”

 

“Then swim. I’ll be waiting right here,” Sing says.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Yue-Lung lowers his eyes a little. Shyly, he does the same small gesture—touching Sing’s hand, a feather’s touch so slight that Sing almost can’t feel it. Yue-Lung’s hand is wet and a bit sandy. “I want to be with you. I don’t want to be alone. It’s a wide ocean.”

 

Sing tilts his head to the side and grins. Yue-Lung has always been so sweet. He’s always been so open about his crush, his words sugary with love and it’s starting to put Sing at the edge of his feelings too. Somehow, he’s gotten attached to him, in a more romantic, passionate way—but Sing is too afraid to clarify his own emotions at the moment.

 

“What’s it like,” Sing asks, “living underwater? Is it beautiful? I find the sea prettier than what is on the land. There seem to be colors that don’t exist here, creatures that are beyond even the most imaginative child’s thoughts. The sea is an entirely different bubble, but you look so content out of it.”

 

“Living at and by the sea are not so much different, Sing,” Yue-Lung’s eyes are fixed onto the horizon. “It’s cold when it rains. I often get chased out by my brothers from home, so I have to, ah, I really don’t know. Just swimming around, sometimes disturbing fish and turtles. I like life with you so much better. There are more things to do, and more things to feel.”

 

“More things to feel,” Sing echoes.

 

Sing feels it too. How ever since he and Yue-Lung cross paths a few months ago, he begins to feel just how much a person can have in their heart. It’s a beautiful feeling, a fresh revelation that he is glad to have in his life. Time seems to stand still, seems to be crushed with each heartbeat, with each pulse, with each fleeting strokes that Yue-Lung brushes on Sing’s hands.

 

Caressed by the wind, Yue-Lung’s hair flows gracefully in the zephyr. Sing touches a loose strand, feeling it with his thumb and saying, “your hair is soft.”

 

“It wasn’t before. The saltwater makes it rough. I’m just glad that your shampoo works really well for me, and the scent is nice too,” Yue-Lung laughs. A small, short-lived, but otherwise bewitching chuckle.

 

“Mm. I’m glad.”

 

They don’t speak anymore. The fingers on Sing’s hand slowly creep to entangle themselves with Sing’s own fingers. They both stare at the vacant distance, a long, far way out there, because they know that in times like this, words are worthless. Even confessions of love would be too banal for the moment. Only each other’s presence matters.

 

“Hey, Sing,” Yue-Lung says, almost in a whisper. In the middle of the rustle of beach grasses and the noisy wind, Sing nearly can’t hear his name being called out. But he can. Because it’s Yue-Lung; his lyrical voice always reaches his ears no matter what, no matter how loud everything else is. Because it’s him.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Yue-Lung takes a seashell that’s buried under the sand. He cleans it with his fingers, shoving sands away from it, then gives the cream-colored, nicely shaped conch to Sing. “Listen.”

 

Sing brings the hole part of the seashell to his ear. The sound of something rushing fills his auditory. He doesn’t understand what Yue-Lung is trying to say or do, so he glances at him.

  
Yue-Lung is crying.

 

Too perplexed to even say anything at all, Sing listens closely to the sound next to his ear. But he doesn’t hear anything except for the cacophony of the roaring wind in the shell cavity.

 

“You said that there will be a time for me to go back to the sea,” Yue-Lung speaks in between sobs. He’s clenching a handful of sand. “Do you hear it, Sing? The sound of the ocean? The endless wail of the waves? When I leave one day, regard it as the blurry memories you have with me. Won’t you?”

 

“Wait,” Sing grabs Yue-Lung’s hand, sheer panic obvious in his tone and face. “You’re not leaving, aren’t you?”

 

Yue-Lung says, “when I first arrived at your house, I begged for your companion twice. Remember? I—it might sound trivial, but I still, I still want you to wait.”

 

“Yue-Lung, I don’t understand.”

 

“You don’t have to. You are the person that keeps my heart hostage, after all.”

 

Sing bites the inside of his cheek. That’s too much of a sentence. He can’t bear hearing it. Yue-Lung knows that Sing’s feelings for him are still vague, and he’s _hurt_ , he’s troubled, upset, because of the uncertainty. Sing merely can’t do one thing. Saying it out loud just like what Yue-Lung has always done all this time is impossible. He simply _doesn’t_ want to reciprocate.

 

But he does. He does, and it hurts.

 

“I am not eloquent,” Yue-Lung says again. “So I can’t say, I can’t tell you just how much I’m feeling; the turbulence of my emotions and the fragments of my heartstrings. I can—only express it with one thing.”

 

Sing is still tightly holding his hand in his palm, unable to let go. Yue-Lung shifts closer. “I hope you forgive me, Sing.”

 

Sing feels the first drop of rain on his cheek, and the first touch of lips on his mouth. Yue-Lung tastes, feels, like nothing. The kiss is soft and sincere, but even though Sing wants to exaggerate it like every other person, he can’t. It’s as warm as sunrise and as romantic as sunset, and his lips keep all the secrets, all the little details of his heartfelt feelings—but he still tastes like nothing. Not even the stars, not the ocean, not anything.

 

He tastes just like himself. An ethereal tang, the nicest feeling that Sing can ever feel.

 

When it breaks, Sing thinks he hears Yue-Lung saying something, but he can’t be quite sure. He also thinks that there is hand on his rain-stained cheek, and another gentle touch on his hand. But he can never be so sure.

 

He doesn’t stop him when Yue-Lung drags his tail into the water, and swims away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably have 4 or 5 chapters so wait for me!


	4. Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sing recognizes him; locked and hurt, mirroring his heart - but he recognizes him still. 
> 
> _This is where Yue-Lung is._
> 
> _And this, he touches his own chest. Is where his heart is. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone is waiting but,,, so sorry for the slight delay ><

“I hear there are mermaids around here.”

 

The sentence strikes Sing, right where it hurts. He’s preparing his nets to fish, and he overhears the visiting fishermen from the neighboring village talking. Mostly they speak about the weather, often even crude stuff, but one of them suddenly burst the boring bubble with this slightly more impressing rumor.

 

And Sing is hurting, not because he knows that there really are mermaids around, but because the memory of a mermaid seems to kill him inside. Not wanting to hear more of those, he mounts to his boat, but one of the fishermen suddenly walked to him to ask if they can borrow his boat.

 

Sing wants to refuse, because he knows that if he lets them to sail with him, they will continue gossiping about mermaids, and Sing absolutely doesn’t need that, not when he’s not in the best state of mind.

 

Not when he misses Yue-Lung, in all sense of that word, more than anything else.

 

He ends up nodding. The fishermen, three of them, cheer and bring their nets, then get onto Sing’s boat. “You’re from this land,” one states, talking to Sing as the boat starts to ebb. “You’ve seen mermaids before?”

 

_I haven’t just seen a mermaid_ , Sing thinks. _He’s a friend, an almost-lover, somebody I had an intimate relationship with, somebody whose laugh is like the noise of a shell cavity and eyes are those of the sparkle of shattered beach glasses._

“No,” he answers succinctly. “Never.”

 

“But have you heard of the rumor?”

 

“No.”

 

“That’s strange,” a fisherman speaks. “Have you been here long?”

  
“Since I was born.”

 

“Then you must have seen one,” another one says, tapping Sing on his shoulder. He flinches. “Come on, buddy, don’t lie. It’s not like we are going to capture you for a mermaid sighting. They do say that mermaid fins are highly nutritious and eating their flesh can gain you so many things, but it’s very hard to catch one. Almost impossible, even. Say, was the mermaid you saw green-tailed? With long, dark hair?”

 

Sing freezes. “That’s too specific. You’ve seen one, too.”

 

“Oh, I haven’t. But people seem to have witnessed the same thing, right on this sea. Emerald scales, hair as fluid as the waves. Couldn’t have been an eye-game if everyone saw already, yeah?”

 

“Hey, hey,” Sing turns his head at the fisherman who speaks next. His tone is excited, and becomes more enthusiastic when he looks at Sing. “Since you are not up to any news, let me tell you. I am the one who caught that mermaid.”

 

Sing’s breathing stops.

 

“Yeah, sure,” the fisherman’s friend says, mocking him. “He didn’t catch a mermaid. He found someone stranded at the beach, a full human, and thought he caught a mermaid.”

 

“No, who I found _was_ a mermaid,” he persists. “Didn’t you see his pretty hair? And, top of all, how he couldn’t walk properly?”

 

“Where is he now?” Sing interrupts. “The mermaid. The human that you thought was a mermaid.”

 

“Locked at the village hall. We’ve got many questions, but he only answered one. We asked him who he was looking for.”

 

“So what did he answer?”

 

“He said he was looking for somebody named Sing. Who do you think it might be?”

 

Sing doesn’t say anything for a good minute. Yue-Lung is looking for him. He must have been stranded unconscious that he didn’t have the chance to go to Sing’s house. What Yue-Lung is feeling right now is beyond what Sing would want to think about. Sing grips the edge of the boat tightly and grits his teeth. “If he is looking for someone, why don’t you release him?”

 

“Dude, he’s a rare specimen. Of course we can’t do that.”

 

“No matter if he was a mermaid before, he’s human now, so isn’t that sort of illegal?” Sing feels dizzy. He holds a side of his head momentarily, while the fishermen look at him in confusion, and Sing knows that, by how he’s talking, they are getting suspicious of him.

 

Sing feels powerless.

 

They go back, and Sing bids farewell to the fishermen. Desperate for an answer to all of the questions that burden his mind, Sing is willing to take risk. He doesn’t even think about worrying anymore. Tomorrow, he’s going to the village hall and bring Yue-Lung home.

 

For now, he would bring the conch shell to his ear and listen to the sound of the ocean, the only thing that Yue-Lung left him, the only thing that Yue-Lung wants him to have.

 

* * *

 

 

The neighboring village is much more densely populated. Sing is immediately alien to the crowd. He asks a few people for directions of the hall, and when he finally gets there, he can physically feel his heartbeat thrumming.

 

_This is where Yue-Lung is._

_And this_ , he touches his own chest. _Is where his heart is._

First steps are always heavy. As he knocks on the door, his mouth feels dry. The churning thing in his stomach is like a whirlpool; a vortex of nervousness and great worry, and it’s only then that he thinks about how much Yue-Lung means to him.

 

He will save him. Protect him. No matter what.

 

He is greeted by a young woman. He mentions his objective, “I heard you are sheltering someone here. I’m going to fetch him.”

 

“Oh, the mermaid? I apologize, Sir, but he’s—“

 

“He’s my friend,” Sing says, interrupting. He knows that he can’t be honest. Making up impromptu lies on spot is difficult, but doing it when you’re agitated is even more difficult. “He was shipwrecked.”

 

“Then maybe you should take a look to see if it’s really who you’re looking for,” the woman gestures at him to come in. She engages him in meaningless conversations on the way to the room where Yue-Lung is locked in, in which Sing always answers half-heartedly. They stop in front of a small, short door. Sing gulps, imagining what sight he’d be seeing inside. The woman takes a key from her pocket and opens the door with it. “Go take a look.”

 

Yue-Lung is sitting on a single bed—the only interior there is in the room—hugging his legs, eyes drooped and body slightly shivering. Sing could recognize him with a single glance. Of course; how would he not? He’d recognize him in the dark, in the crowds, in the haze of tears.

 

“Sing,” Yue-Lung’s voice is pained as he forces himself to speak the single syllable.

 

Yue-Lung tries to stand and walk to Sing, only to stumble and fall. Even when his knees hit the floor with a terrible _thump_ , his voice, gentle but cracked, continues to call out Sing’s name.

 

“ _Sing._ ”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on Twitter: [icryoverships](https://twitter.com/Icryoverships)


End file.
